The Thieves' Guild was sprawling and entrenched like a virus, its capillaries reaching across many nations; it had strongholds in almost every country on the Western Continent, varying only in scale and number.
It had almost become a widespread ideological faction.
Wealth, reputation, strength.
The man who had gathered the most odious of names into his fold.
Diaz's words had made becoming a thief the goal of people the world over.
Do you want someone else's treasure? If you do, then it's yours for the taking—just steal it.
I've placed all the wealth of the world right there.
The foul legacy passed down through generations, the changing of times, the silt of humanity—none of it could be stopped as long as people continued to search for the answers of a scurrying rat; this would all go on forever!
The world had entered the great era of thieves!
Thief King—that would be me! Rubber rubber · Theft Premonition Machine Gun!
